Letters I'll Never Send

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Let’s not forget it was you who kicked me to the curb. Why doesn’t matter, who was at fault doesn’t matter. We both know we both played our parts and that’s all done and over with.

So last Friday I was out a with a woman and the gal who works at the shop where you get your hair done saw me. And as you women seem to like to do she immediately reported to you that she saw your ex with a woman.

Oh, man, the nasty, mean, spiteful texting that drew from you all day long!! I mean, WTF? You kick me to the curb in a most deceitful, dishonest and entirely selfish way so you can move HIM in, you tell everyone who will listen how flippin’ HAPPY you are – pink unicorns and rainbows and all that happy crap – and then you have the freakin’ nerve to get mad because I’m moving on with my life??? How old are you again? I thought you were 46 but really this behavior is that of a 15yo junior high girl. Immature, irresponsible and the sign of poor character.

But at the end… threatening me with legal trouble over stuff you made up in your mind? If you would take a moment to examine what you think you have as evidence you should see you made it all up, it doesn’t exist and I didn’t do what you want to accuse me of.

Oh, no, that’s not going to fly. Everything up to that point can be ignored or argued away as just end-of-relationship BS, but if you want to go there, involving the authorities with false accusations… I’ve got dirt on you too. Perhaps you thought I wasn’t paying attention, or maybe you’ve made me such a bad guy in your mind that you think I’m too stupid to read and research rules and regulations that grant you your occupational license. You may be able to make things uncomfortable for me for a while, but I’ll send you to being a waitress at a titty bar. Maybe you’d be able to sell your collection of scrubs, shoes and purses to pay the electric bill for a month or two.

So back the fuck off. Go be happy with your Mr. N if that’s what floats your boat. Find a way to do it without trying to hurt me in return because, you know, we’re supposed to be adults. Accept that I’ve moved on and jealousy on your part is just childish.

As you’ve heard me say before, “Don’t fuck with me. I fuck back.” Remember that night that guy jumped me in the bar? Remember how you commented on that look in my eyes? Yeah, that’s what’s going on right now. Being a bitch is one thing. Being batshit crazy is something else entirely.